Morning Mourning
by Rayc Petite
Summary: Hundreds of stony, granite, structures protruding upward from the ground in an organized manner stood strategically in attention just for her as she unlatched the squeaky gate and entered.  Rory talking to her mom and saying goodbye.  RPOV.


**Author's Note: I'm a horrible person. I've been working on "I Never Got To Say Goodbye," but… I keep erasing the chapters because I don't like them. It's not coming as easily to me as it was before. I don't feel… gah, I can't even explain it. I thought of this by reading another persons one-shot… and I wanted to write one too.**

**This is, indeed, a one-shot… I'm in the middle of writing a brand new story (another reason why I haven't been posting lately.) I won't post that until I have at least ten chapters written up… and currently it's only in the outline stage… actually, I have half of the first chapter written. It's over 5,000 words so far.**

**:D**

**So… here is my story. It takes place anytime… it fits in anywhere… I guess a few years from when the series left off… well.. you'll see why.**

**Disclaimer: They don't give show rights to hobos that live in cardboard boxes with internet connection. However, the revolution is coming soon and we will prevail. **

**Morning Mourning**

She slammed the car door behind her and felt everything around her slow down very suddenly. The crunching of the gravel beneath her feet sounded louder than they had ever been before and she became much more aware of her surroundings. It really was a depressing place, and not just because of what it was: a graveyard. The air around her felt chilled, more so than earlier when she had entered her car. The sky above her was a dull shade of grey and it successfully kept out any trace of sunlight, warmth, or compassion. Hundreds of stony, granite, structures protruding upward from the ground in an organized manner stood strategically in attention just for her as she unlatched the squeaky gate and entered.

She walked in a gloomy state as she kept an eye out for the headstone she was looking for. She shoved her hands in her pockets, playing with the fuzzy lint that had accumulated there. While feeling her heart beat faster, she suddenly remembered the old superstition that people had, holding your breath while in a graveyard. She speculated that people did this, silently hoping that maybe the loved ones that they had lost, the ones that were resting peacefully six feet below, wouldn't be there. That perhaps everything had just been a figment of their imagination and they were really just crazy. It would mean that the person that they loved was really enjoying life somewhere, maybe heckling the local diner owner or making people smile with their witty sense of humor. As she contemplated her botched theory, she realized that she, herself, was holding her breath.

She approached the place she had been looking for and released her breath in a strangled sob. Crazy people didn't admit that they were crazy, anyway. She wrapped her arms around her body and rocked back and forth on the balls of her feet. It was cold, colder than normal for March. She shivered involuntary and her breathing quickened. Her warm breath showed up like smoke in front of her face before disappearing quickly. Finally, she sat down in front of her mother's grave, only a foot away from her tombstone. The ground was moist with tiny droplets of dew and she felt the water seeping in through her jeans, it was so cold that it burned her skin, but she didn't care. She came here, on the anniversary of her mother's death, and she was going to say what she needed to say, even if there was no way for her mother to hear her.

She took off her navy blue, knitted, gloves and reached out in front of her. Her fingertips touched the smooth surface of the glossy granite. Her fingers migrated down to the engravings and she traced the words with her fingers, _'Lorelai Gilmore.'_ Rory felt a lump form in her throat and the familiar tugging at her heart that had seemed like a constant feature for over six months until it had finally turned numb. She bit her bottom lip, willing herself not to cry so she could say what she had come to say. She swallowed the lump in her throat, hard, and let out a strangled sob.

"Hi, Mom," she said, finally, in a hoarse voice. She stared at the tombstone, as if she expected it to reply. She waited for a minute before continuing. "I miss you." Another pause, it never hurt to hope. "This year, without you, has been the hardest year of my entire life… and I've had some hard ones. You've missed a lot." The trees around her blew slightly to the left from the wind and her hair whipped in her face, getting in her mouth. She smoother her hair out with her hand and tucked some of it behind her ears. She sighed and her attention returned to the slab of stone in front of her. "People are doing okay, at the Inn, Stars Hollow, the diner. Luke's doing fine now, although, he never smiles anymore… he didn't really do much of that before you anyway. You always had a way of warming his heart, even if you being incredibly annoying. You warmed everybody's hearts, even Grandma's heart. You know, she never really told you how proud she was of you, but she was, she tells everyone now. She regrets not being able to tell you those things when you were here."

Rory laughed, thinking of the scowl her mother would inevitably be wearing if she were here and heard Emily compliment her. "They really miss you, too. Your funeral was incredible, Grandma worked on it ten times harder than she did on Gran's funeral. Everyone was there, Kirk, Babette, Miss Patty, Paris, Michel, Sookie, the whole town. I swear, everyone there had something to say about you, the service could have lasted all day, but people ran out of tears. We tried to make it a celebration of your life, but it was hard, considering we all knew your life shouldn't have been over yet."

Rory smiled, slightly, remembering Kirks poem that had taken him twenty minutes to recite, or Babette and Miss Patty's song tribute that had used the word sailor in it at least ten times. "I didn't saw anything at your funeral… and I regret it everyday. That's why I'm here now. I kind of like this better, it's more personal, I don't have to make a speech. You know how much I hate speeches. Anyway, Dad came to the funeral too; of course, he looked so broken, almost as much as Luke. You were quite the heart breaker Lorelai Gilmore. I'm surprised I didn't seen more of your adoring fans there. You drove men crazy, which is something I will always envy about you, that, and your ability to light up a room with a single smile. God, that smile was contagious. Never have I met someone else with the ability to make an entire room smile just by being them self. You were quite the original and that's what I admired about you the most. You never pretended to be someone else; you always knew who you were. I wish that I was that sure of myself… however, you always seemed to bring out the best in me. You taught me so many things, Lorelai Gilmore. Things that I'll never forget. You took me out of a world that suppressed who you were and taught me to value things that other people often take for granted, like books, education, and friendship. Without your guidance, I don't think I would be the person I am today. You helped me get over my insecurities and allow me to be myself. You showed me how to strive to be more than just ordinary, and become someone who I'm proud of and I hope you're proud of."

She paused and felt tears stinging at her eyes. She blinked and felt the liquid spill over down her cheeks. She wiped them away with the back of her sleeve, but fresh ones soon replaced them. She returned her attention back to her Mother's grave and let a sob escape her mouth. "I feel like you were robbed from me, Mom! I feel like I didn't get enough time with you and it's so unfair! I keep thinking about this and I can't chalk it up to fate, I can't believe that someone planned to take you away from me, from all of us! I can't see any good reason for you to have been taken away from us so soon!" She cried harder as she raised her voice. She buried her head in her hands and remained there for a few minutes, just allowing herself to cry. She finally regained her composure and took a deep breath, still feeling the tears welling up in her blue eyes. She rubbed them again, feeling it sting from the mixture of water and friction. "I want-…" Rory paused, trying to find the words for what she wanted to say, "When I have children, I want them to know their Grandma, even if they don't get to actually meet her. I want them to have the same experience growing up that I did, because I wouldn't trade that for the world. I wouldn't trade what _we_ had for the world. You were more than just my Mom, Mom… you were my best friend… you still are." Rory got on her knees and pushed herself up. She looked down at the small grave and smiled. "I just wanted to tell you that… and that you changed my life. I'll never forget you." She walked away from the stony, granite, structures protruding upward from the ground in an organized manner and the chilly air towards the black picket gate that led to the rest of the world. She looked up at the sky and saw that the sun was peaking out from behind the clouds. She left the cemetery feeling a little bit lighter and a little bit warmer than she had when she entered. She hurried over to her car and opened the driver's door. She looked over her shoulder one last time and thought that it didn't look as depressing as she thought it had. She drove away, the gravel stones flying behind her as she stepped on the accelerator.

The wind blew across the fields, swaying the trees and the grass to the left, slightly. The grave of Lorelai Gilmore shimmered in the sun and the words shined brightly. _'Lorelai Gilmore: Loving Wife, Daughter, Mother, and Friend.'_

**Author's Note: Okay… here's the deal. I'll PROMISE that I'll post the next chapter of "I Never Got to Say Goodbye" soon if you guys give me some reviews on this… and I don't mean stupid reviews like, "Good job…" or anything that tells me to make this into more of a story. NO! It's a one-shot. I want constructive criticism and comments with substance. Press Henry:P**


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